OuSpot Special Report!
by LingShiao
Summary: Hey...Ever wondered what happens inside the 3rd Music Room when we're not there? Well, for the obscene price of 100,000,000 yen and one potato, I have bribed, er, bought these stories from Kyoya! Enjoy these embarassing outtakes! Various oneshots
1. Costume Catastrophe

Cosplays That Never Made it out of the Closet.

Never expose Tamaki to rap music. EVER.

----------------------------

What a gorgeous day! The sun was shining with a vengeance, the birds were rapturously off-key, and there weren't any customers to entertain today at the Host Club!

Haruhi couldn't wipe a small, satisfied smile off her face as she trotted cheerfully to the third music room.

Ah, Mondays! The days free of senseless chatter. All the Club ever did on Mondays was plan further cosplays and tease Tamaki, and since Haruhi had no say in planning costumes and staunchly refused to take part in the grotesque pleasure of making Tamaki cry, she usually just sat in a corner and did her homework.

Oh, the bliss of extra homework time! It was all she could do to keep from skipping.

She arrived in front of the grand door, and heaved a contented sigh before yanking it open.

__

Eeh??

All the six hosts were perched on stools, and at least twelve seamstresses and assistants were scurrying about, half hidden behind huge piles of material.

Crud. She'd forgotten that today was costume-fitting day. That was an unpleasant surprise, but the prospect of getting fitted for another costume wasn't what made Haruhi's face turn a strange shade of blotchy maroon.

__

What the devil are those idiots wearing?! Is this some sort of sick joke?! Haruhi thought frantically, as she collapsed into a nearby chair.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki spread his arms wide, preening. "How do you like our new look?"

It was like Nightmare from A-Town.

Tamaki was wearing a white baseball cap emblazoned with NY, and an impossibly huge white t-shirt. As if by magic, the waistline of his ginormous jeans hung around his knees without slipping. That same strange brand of sorcery was also what kept his neck erect under the pounds of golden bling he had on.

The rest of them were clad in similarly garish outfits, in various colors. Mori was also sporting a beanie, and the twins had somehow managed to get their auburn hair into cornrows. Kyoya peered at her through his stunna shades, outfitted with prescription lenses. Hunny was nowhere to be seen at all.

"Er, where's Hunny?" Haruhi asked, partly out of fear for her little friend, partly to buy herself some time to think of an excuse, any excuse, to leave ASAP.

"Haru-chan! I'm right here!" A perky little voice rang out, coming from absolutely nowhere.

Haruhi scanned the room, and followed the chipper voice to a wobbling heap of fabric piled onto the smallest stool. About six seamstresses and their assistants were hovering around the pile, pinning this and that, folding here and there, taking this measurement, groaning, ripping out seams and resewing them in again.

"Turn around please," one of the seamstresses requested.

The bundle of fabric moved to respond, then, thrown off balance by the solid gold medallion on his neck, swayed, and plummeted to the ground.

"Tall tees are too tall for Hunny," Mori explained calmly, stating the obvious. He picked up Hunny and set him upright on the stool again. How exactly he knew which end of Hunny was up, we shall never know.

"Haruhi, what do you think of our new look?" Tamaki repeated, taking no notice of Haruhi's ghastly pale face.

"If I have to wear that, I'll die."

Tamaki laughed airily. "I'm glad you like it."

He attempted to twirl around to flaunt his new threads. Unfortunately, when he did this, the material billowed up around him like a parachute, and he did a fantastic triple Lutz off the stool. Even more unfortunately, the parachute-like appearance of Tamaki's outfit did nothing to help him land his Lutz gracefully, and he fell upon his face, catapulting his stool into the air, where it flipped about three or four times, and landed square on his buttocks.

Tamaki giggled like an excited schoolgirl. "Of course, there are some adjustments that must be made, but aren't these outfits _fun_?"

Ignoring him, Haruhi turned to Kyoya. Speechlessly, she gestured wildly towards the costumes, nothing but abject terror in her eyes.

Kyoya simply shrugged. "Tamaki's idea," he said, by way of explanation, as he tied a royal blue do-rag on his head, making sure that the knot was perfectly symmetrical.

Tamaki nodded vigorously, his bling clanging like discordant church bells. "This is all the rage in America!" he insisted.

"Somehow," Haruhi managed to choke out, "I don't think this is the way you're supposed to wear that."

"Ridiculous," Tamaki replied airily. "See these pictures? That one's Skittles, and this guy's name is Snoopy Kitty." He thrust a pile of magazine clippings under Haruhi's nose.

Kyoya coughed. "I do believe they're Eminem and Snoop Dog."

"No, that's ridiculous. I'm sure their names are Skittles and Snoopy Kitty." Tamaki shrugged. "Strange country, America. Anyway. They're all dressed very baggily. Apparently, this is some sort of American mating ritual in which the man who can get the most cloth on his body without smothering himself wins the beautiful princess!"

Haruhi didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"Anyway, we debut these costumes at tomorrow's meeting, so hurry up and get into yours!" Tamaki reached out to gently nudge Haruhi in the right direction.

Mercifully, he never made it that far.

As Tamaki stepped towards Haruhi, he tread on the hem of his pants. Trying frantically to pull them up, he tangled himself in his Sean Jean tent, tripped, and went flying. When the dust cleared, Tamaki's pants were pooled around his ankles, revealing black boxers emblazoned with smoochy lips and the words "Red HAWT" scrawled across the back in red glitter.

With that, (and after reviving Haruhi) all the costumes were promptly donated to charity, and what was bluntly and repeatedly refused by the charities (surprisingly, not many Japanese people have a 900 cm waist) was summarily shredded, cremated, then set adrift at sea.

Except for Kyoya's stunna shades. He'd tucked _those _into his blazer.

-------------------------

Note to all readers. I've got absolutely nothing against gangsters, but I AM sick and tired of staring at this wankster's butt as he bends down to reach his bottom locker, which happens to be directly underneath mine. The whole Tamaki's pants falling down thing was inspired by a friend of mine who wore baggy pants and had the same thing happen to him. Not even kidding.


	2. Kyoya's Unspectacled Day

Let's start this off by saying I love Mexican food, so no flames please. I also love purebred dogs. No flames please. That said, this was inspired by a friend, whose eyes are so bad that when I look through his glasses, I can't see my hand in front of my face. And I don't have 20-20 vision either. Anyway, I would like to thank said friend for giving me the spark of creativity required to make fun of someone like Kyoya Ohtori. : D

****

Kyoya's Unspectacled Day

----------------------------

Ah, Sunday.

Kyoya stretched his long limbs contentedly, like a lean, lithe panther awakening from a long slumber. He basked in the warm midmorning light, sweet and melty, like butter on popcorn.

Stretching once more, he reached for his glasses on the bedside table.

__

Huh?

His fingers grasped at empty air.

__

What? Where?

He leaned over, still in bed, to check the floor. Had they fallen? No, impossible. He'd set them securely on the nightstand before turning out the lights, as he'd done every night for the past nine years. Who would have the audacity to pilfer his spectacles?

Who would _dare_??

__

Hwwiiiiihneee! _Mhhhwhiiineee_!

Kyoya's wrathful attention was now drawn to the door. There was a ferocious scratching, a wet snuffling, and another loud, almost desperate whine before the door swung open to reveal a massive golden retriever, with a glistening, soft, fluffy coat and a red ribbon tied in a festive bow around her neck. In her mouth were Kyoya's (now mangled) glasses.

"Antoinette, you wretched animal!" Kyoya hissed through clenched teeth. "Drop those!"

Antoinette obeyed, gently setting the glasses down at the bedside. She swished her tail twice slowly, and backed up a few paces, an apologetic doggy grin on her face.

"You're just as empty-headed as your master," Kyoya spat. "If you weren't Tamaki's mongrel, you would be out in the streets before you knew what was happening!"

What had possessed him to take in the mutt anyway? Oh, yeah.

__

"PLLEEEEEEEEEZE, Kyoya! I'll only be gone for the weekend, and sending Antoinette away to a kennel would kill her! How can you resist this face?" Tamaki knelt beside Antoinette and hugged her, gazing up at Kyoya with misty doe eyes. Antoinette took one glance at Tamaki and followed suit, staring at Kyoya imploringly.

"You can't resist this faaaace . . ." Tamaki crooned. "Can't you find it in your heart to take pity on a poor, defenseless animal?"

"I have no heart." Kyoya replied coldly.

Somewhere in the distance, flames reared up, lightning crackled, and thunder growled. Ominous music played, as purple demon energy sizzled behind Kyoya.

"Couldn't you just send her to one of those dog day care things?"

"And risk her being exposed to fleas and ticks and other pestilence?" Tamaki cried indignantly. "I'm appalled that you'd even suggest something like that!"

"You're being unreasonable," Kyoya replied, without batting an eyelash. "There are centers that are certified by the humane society, with separate rooms for each dog, and diets you can specify and . . ."

"But Antionette's not a dog! She's a member of this family!" Tamaki interrupted.

Kyoya shot him a withering look.

But Tamaki, being Tamaki, had pestered him until Kyoya was sure all his hair had turned snow white. As one could guess, Tamaki eventually won out.

"Fine._ I'll take the stupid dog, provided she's potty-trained and won't leave me presents all over my carpets," Kyoya muttered._

Tamaki smiled smugly as he handed Kyoya the leash. After all, a victory was a victory, even if Kyoya only said yes to shut him up.

"Tamaki, _you _are the reason I'm going to have an aneurysm before I'm forty," Kyoya grumbledto no one in particular.

But why on earth had Antionette chosen his glasses to use as a chew toy? Despite the doubtless decades of inbreeding, the dog wasn't _that _thick-skulled.

__

"Hikaru, I really don't think five tacos are really crammed into that little packet," Kaoru objected.

Hikaru shrugged his shoulders. "Haruhi manages to live inside an apartment that's barely bigger than our living room. If she can do that, it's definitely possible to fit five tacos into this little bag."

__

"Hikaru, Kaoru, do change into your costumes for today; we'll be commencing in ten minutes. And put that awa--"

BWOF.

__

The twins, who'd been struggling with a package of powdered taco sauce, finally managed to rip it open in a storm of red dust.

Kyoya, finely dusted in taco sauce powder from the shoulders up, gave a dignified cough, exhaling a small puff of cinnamon-colored powder.

"First of all, that tastes horrible. Tacos are uncouth," Kyoya stated as matter-of-factly as if he'd been commenting on the weather. He took out a silk handkerchief and began wiping his glasses clean. "Second of all," he placed his glasses back on his face, and his eyes gleamed with untapped low blood pressure demonic power. "GO CHANGE!!!!" He bellowed.

OH. The glasses must still have smelled like taco sauce, and in the dead of night, while Kyoya was sleeping like a rock, Antoinette must have snuck in and swiped them.

Perfect. Just perfect! Kyoya glared at Antoinette through narrowed snake eyes. He sat up and ran his fingers through his jet black hair.

__

Well, fine. It wasn't like he didn't have a spare pair of glasses. Kyoya slid out of bed and ambled to his dresser. Opening the top drawer, he rifled through its contents, and withdrew a pair of silver wire-rimmed glasses, perhaps a little smaller, but otherwise identical to the ones now lying on the floor. He slipped them on.

__

Huh?

Everything was just as blurry as before, maybe even worse, from the dust and fingerprints clouding the lenses. Kyoya took off the glasses, wiped them clean on his t-shirt and put them on again. He squinted. Nope. Still blurry.

Groaning mentally, Kyoya realized that the last time he'd changed his the frame of his glasses was when he was in the sixth grade.

__

All riiight . . . No reason to panic. Contact lenses will do for a day.

Grabbing a pair of loose, slightly faded jeans, Kyoya tugged them on over his boxers and headed for the bathroom. Still groggy and in a foul mood to boot, he pawed noisily through the contents of the medicine cabinet. He was sure he _had_ contact lenses, it was simply a matter of locating them.

__

Oh, shit. He'd given them to Haruhi, hadn't he?

He stifled a scream. Ookay. Deep breaths. Rationalize the situation. Rationalize, rationalize.

__

Well, it is a Sunday. No school. So in theory I could just not leave the house at all, and have a new set of glasses delivered in time for school tomorrow. No, wait. Crap. That stupid charity gala.

What would the gala be for, anyway? Kyoya was sure it was something utterly useless, like the plight of some endangered mosquito on some godforsaken island. Well, either way, skipping it was not an option. Five of his father's (and now his, since he bought his father's company, he remembered with a smile) largest competitors would be there. He couldn't miss this chance to assess the competition unless he had been trampled within an inch of his life by rampaging wildebeests.

He gritted his teeth. Well, not being able to see. Minor setback, he decided, turning around and heading for the door.

__

Funny, he thought. _Was the doorknob always shaped this way?_

Dismissing that disconcerting thought, Kyoya went ahead and turned it.

FWWWSSSSSHHH.

Ice-cold water drenched Kyoya from head to toe.

Blinded and disoriented, Kyoya turned in the wrong direction. Then he had walked into his shower and turned the _cold water _knob.

He stood there in absolute silence for a few moments, sopping wet and freezing. Then, a slightly mad giggle escaped his lips.

"_AYH\\A;DLKV(7$OASBLASDLKC#$SIHQWERTYG92Q386485WE6T9YEHKD!!!"_


	3. Dental Deja Vu

I thought of this idea while I was at the dentist's office, having the hell drilled out of my teeth. So yeah, I know we've covered the whole dental catastrophe thing, what with Hunny's cavity, but we never took the opportunity to discover what the Ouran gang would do at a real dentist's office. So, enjoy.

Oh, and for those of you seeking closure on my Kyoya's Unspectacled Day babble, he ended up having a terrible day, tripping and falling a grand total of 17 times. The gala? Well, let's just say that it was a success in that Kyoya knows all his opponent's strategies. However, since he was unable to see the speaker's faces, he now must spend hours, if not days, matching up strategies to companies. Poor Kyoya.

Dental Déjà Vu

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A dreary day. Not a single patch of blue could be glimpsed through the clouds' pallid shade of gray, and the sun's meager warmth was tepid at best. A chill wind rustled through the trees, bringing with it the earthy scent of rain and an early winter. The entire area surrounding the Ohtori's mansion was almost eerily still. Not even a single sparrow pecked at the lush lawns of the gardens, or at the gravelly dirt of the driveways. No sign of life disturbed the quiescence of the new day. Utter isolation. Perfect.

The memories of last Sunday's disastrous gala still reeked in Kyoya's memory, like stale Brussels sprouts and caviar. He decided that the only way to completely erase those memories from his mind was to replace them with pleasant ones. And what better way to do that than to sleep all day this Sunday?

He stretched and tugged the covers up to his chin. He'd get up for lunch and dinner, maybe. Depending on what the menu was.

And then the phone rang.

Kyoya snarled softly, and further cocooned himself inside his bed, squeezing his pillow over his ears. Rancorous thoughts raced through his head, ending with how fun it would be to banish whoever it was that invented the evil known as cell phones. He curled up into a tight ball, like a cantankerous cat, steeling himself against the phone's incessant ringing.

Finally, the phone gave one more exasperated chime, then settled into silence once again.

Kyoya smirked beneath his pillow, eyes still firmly shut. _Stubbornness trumps technology once again! _He cheered silently. 

Then, just as Kyoya was about to drift back into the sweet oblivion that was slumber, another voice roused him.

"Kyoya-san! Stop sulking! Someone is on the telephone for you!"

Kyoya immediately recognized it as the voice of Chinsei, head of the Ohtori household staff, and a second mother of sorts.

"I am not _sulking_, Chinsei," Kyoya corrected her in as respectful a drawl as his mood allowed.

"Then stop moping," Chinsei replied. "There is someone on the phone for you, and they are not giving up until you answer. I've tried hanging up at least four times!"

That probably wasn't a lie, Kyoya decided. He was still debating over whether or not to open the door, when it was nudged open with a slight click, light footsteps padded up the stair case, and the phone slid over to him on the slick hardwood floor.

Kyoya stretched a hand out from under the covers and grabbed the phone. "Thanks," he said shortly.

Chinsei winked, then exited the room quietly.

Kyoya braced himself for the worst, then raised the phone to his ear. "What?"

"Kyoya, we need one of your dentists here, STAT!"

The gears in Kyoya's brain whirred. Mori would never call him for something as stupid as that. The voice, although an octave higher than normal because of rage and panic, was still not high enough to be Hunny's. It was too nasal to be Tamaki, and too loud to be Haruhi. Therefore, it must be one of the twins. Judging by the pitch and frantic intonation, Kyoya was going with Hikaru.

"Hikaru, did someone knock all your teeth out?"

"What?" Hikaru asked, taken aback. "Er, no."

"Then why do you need a dentist, of all things?" Kyoya tried his best to keep the annoyance out of his voice, but he sounded strained nonetheless.

"Some crackpot just told me that Kaoru and I both have cavities!" Hikaru's voice escalated another octave or two. "It's IMPOSSIBLE!!!" he shrieked.

Kyoya groaned. "Whatever. I'll send someone over. Don't call me again."

He hung up the phone with a decisive _click_, gave Chinsei orders to have a dentist sent over to the Hitachiin estate, then promptly cocooned himself in bed and fell back to sleep, snoring softly.

------------------------

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid both of you have cavities," the doctor said carefully, yanking off his plastic gloves with an ominous snap.

"That's IMPOSSIBLE!!" Hikaru bellowed, leaping up from his seat in the dentist's chair. He lunged towards the poor fool who'd misdiagnosed him.

"Hikaru," Kaoru began, catching his twin in mid-leap. "That's the 52nd dentist who's told us that we've got holes in our teeth. Don't you think that maybe he's right?"

"NO." Hikaru scowled darkly at the dentist, who shuddered a bit under his gaze.

"If you want," the dentist said haltingly, "I can take care of those cavities for you boys right now, so you don't have to schedule another appointment."

Kaoru nodded. "Sounds good," he replied. Turning to Hikaru, he said, "I'll go in first, so I can tell you what to expect." He got up to follow the dentist to another chair.

"NO!!" Hikaru grabbed his brother and clasped Kaoru's hand. "Don't you remember what happened to Hunny??! Don't be a hero!!"

Kaoru smiled reassuringly. "Hunny needed a root canal. This is just a simple filling, really!" He gently pushed Hikaru off of him. "I'll be back soon, I promise!"

"You'd better!" Hikaru called after him, as he was escorted back to the waiting room to imagine better what tortures they were putting his twin through.

-----------------------

_Where is he?? Why doesn't he cry out?? _Hikaru thought to himself over and over again. He crossed and uncrossed his legs for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, checked his watch, ran his fingers through his ginger hair, and leapt up to begin pacing again. _It's dangerously quiet!! _He thought furiously. 

It never crossed Hikaru's mind that Kaoru might not be experiencing too much pain.

He had no idea why the smooth jazz was so infuriating, but Hikaru was suddenly consumed by the overwhelming urge to destroy something. 

And the walls! They were so sterile, so white and so clean!!! The little motif of dancing teeth encircling the tops of the walls closest to the ceiling made Hikaru vaguely nauseous. If he had to stay in there any longer, he'd go stark raving mad.

At last, Kaoru came through the door and into the waiting room.

"KAORUUU!!!!" Hikaru tackled his twin and embraced him in a viselike hug. "Are you all right?! They didn't hurt you that much, did they?!" He clenched his twin like he never wanted to let go.

Kaoru patted Hikaru's head and let his twin snuggle him for a moment before trying to pry him off.

"Seriously, Hikaru," Kaoru said as he stroked his ginger hair consolingly. "You won't feel a thing after they numb you."

Hikaru stared up at Kaoru imploringly.

Kaoru sighed. "Would you like me to follow you in there and hold your hand?"

Hikaru opened his mouth and was just about to answer "yes," when he caught sight of one of the receptionists giggling, apparently experiencing a massive moe attack. Deep down, he was flattered, but his host charm was currently turned off, and he was _so _not in the mood to endure any moe from anyone.

Glaring at the bubble-headed receptionists, Hikaru shook his head, puffed up his chest, tucked his shoulders back, gritted his teeth, lifted his chin, and once he couldn't think of any more mental preparations to do, followed the dentist down the long hallway.

During the minute or so that it took to walk down the hallway, Hikaru concluded that whichever sadistic person had built this place made the hallway long in order to prolong the gut-wrenching dread that everyone was bound to feel at a dentist's office. Brooding over this, he was led to a pristine pleather chair. The mint green harbinger of doom was surrounded by a sparkling array of dentist's tools. Their pointy tips glistened in the unnaturally bright lights.

Hikaru gulped.

The dentist gestured at the seat, and Hikaru cautiously lowered himself into it. He settled back into the chair, making a futile attempt to get comfortable.

The dentist smiled cheerily, showing Hikaru perfectly symmetrical pearly whites.

_Those can't be natural_, Hikaru thought with a shudder. 

"Nice weather we're having, eh?" The dentist commented conversationally as his gripped Hikaru's chin and swiped at his cheek with a q-tip covered in something that tasted like rancid cherries soaked in polluted seawater.

"Yes," Hikaru replied, trying not to gag on whatever had just been put in his mouth. He was feeling reasonably calm, deciding that he could handle bad tastes. Besides, it couldn't get much worse than rancid, seawater cherries. Then, he caught a glimpse of what the dentist was preparing on the table next to him. He panicked.

Luckily, the dentist didn't notice Hikaru breaking out in a cold sweat. "Perfect weather for eating burgers, don't you think?" he commented. "Personally, I love McDonald's."

"Yeah, yeah," he stammered, trying to keep up the conversation while thinking of an escape plan. "The weather is quite McDonald's in Oakland today!"

The dentist gave him a strange look, considered something, then added extra morphine to his needle.

"Hikaru, my name is Dr. Yuvi Wakamaru." Dr. Wakamaru's smile widened, and Hikaru wondered vaguely if or when his cheeks would begin to tear. "You don't have a problem with needles by any chance, do you?" Dr. Wakamaru reached for something on his tray and held up an evilly glinting silver injection needle.

The monstrous thing looked like it contained enough fluid to knock out an obese elephant. Hikaru was a mere two minutes away from hysteria. 

"On second thought, could you put me under a general anesthetic?" Hikaru asked, eyeing the needle and desperately planning an escape route.

Dr. Wakamaru stared at him. "We usually don't do that for fillings . . ." he replied, his voice trailing off.

"Oh," Hikaru squeaked. "Well, I was just asking. Not like I'm scared of that needle or anything," he scoffed, trying to appear differential.

"Well, okay," Dr, Wakamaru replied doubtfully. "Just a little pinch to get us started," He warned, before reaching for Hikaru's jaw with one gloved hand.

Hikaru opened his mouth, closed his eyes, and braced himself. He figured if he couldn't see the needle, it wouldn't exist. But despite everything, he could still sense the needle approaching the inside of his cheek. He cringed, gripping the armrests of the chair until his nails began to tear into the foam cushioning.

Piiiinchh. STAB.

"YEAAARGH!!!!" Hikaru flinched and rocketed off of the chair.

Scared half to death, Dr. Yuvi fumbled the needle and tossed it over the side of the cubicle, narrowly avoiding impaling a hapless nurse.

"What?? What?" He gasped, clutching his chest.

"That HURT!" He cried indignantly, rubbing his cheek.

"Yes, well," Dr. Wakamaru floundered. "I did say that there was going to be a pinch."

"THAT WASN'T A PINCH!" Hikaru roared.

Dr. Wakamaru gestured frantically back to the chair. "Please sit back down! The rest of the procedure won't be as bad, cross my heart."

Hikaru glared at him angrily. "Fine. But if you're lying to me, just remember that I've got a whole fleet of lawyers just itching to sue the pants off of you."

Dr. Wakamaru whimpered internally, wondering if maybe this was to be his punishment for some unremembered sin he'd committed in a past life. If that was the case, he'd very much rather have karma reincarnate him as a dung beetle than bungle this filling.

He nodded at Hikaru, gave him a pained smile, then retreated into his office for a cup of very strong, very black, coffee.

Hikaru sat back down in the chair, which somehow managed to be slick and sticky at the same time, in all the wrong places. He was determined not to chicken out, and show that stupid dentist that _no one _messes with the Hitachiins. But at the same time, he was filled with a disturbing urge to leap out that window.

Hikaru entertained both fantasies. One, coming out of the room alive and grinning. Two, leaping out the window and never returning.

His pride and ego delighted in the first fantasy, and he sat as comfortably as was humanly possible in the chair for all of five minutes. Then, his sense of self-preservation won out. He crept stealthily to the window, then peered cautiously down the hall to see if the dentist was watching.

He wasn't. In fact, Dr. Wakamaru was cowering in the employee break room, trying very hard to quell the shaking that had taken over his whole body. If he tried to fill a cavity like that, he'd probably end up drilling a hole straight through the roof of Hikaru's mouth.

Satisfied, Hikaru slid the window open. His trembling hands almost knocked over a pot of red petunias, but he dove and caught them before they hit the ground and gave him away.

Momentary danger averted, Hikaru nimbly hoisted himself up onto the windowsill. He could feel the wintry breeze nip at his face. Freedom was his!

"Hikaru, what do you think you're doing?"

Hikaru started, whacked his head on the raised half of the window, and almost fell headlong into the daffodil patch that lined the outside of the building.

Scrambling to get himself back inside and cursing karma, Hikaru replied: "Just getting a whiff of those lovely daffodils."

Kaoru cocked his head. "And you were climbing out the window because those daffodils were just so seductive?"

Hikaru stuck out his tongue. "You know I've got a low tolerance for pain."

Kaoru nodded, solemnly this time. "Which is why I'm here. I'm going to tell Dr. Yuvi that you need his _special _anesthetic. Why don't you sit back down in the chair?"

Hikaru slid onto the chair suspiciously. "I know that look. What are you planning?"

"I'm not planning a thing!" Kaoru smirked deviously. "Really." He took Hikaru's hand and patted it consolingly.

And in one fluid motion, Kaoru whipped out a pair of handcuffs, clapped one on Hikaru's wrist and one to the armrest of the chair.

Hikaru's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't _dare._"

Kaoru smiled sweetly. "I knew you were going to try to escape, so I brought these. Don't worry, I've got the key on a chain around my neck. You'll thank me once you realize how much more painful it would be to have the tooth rot and then be pulled out."

Before Hikaru could throttle Kaoru, Dr. Yuvi returned.

Visibly perked up by the coffee, Dr. Yuvi grinned. "Shall we move on?"

Hikaru's heart sank into his left ankle. His queasy stomach dropped into his right.

Taking no notice of this, Dr. Yuvi grabbed a drill from the white porcelain stand. He clicked it on, and its shrill whirring filled the air.

Hikaru passed out.

Thus, Hikaru's cavity was filled.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" The receptionist asked, infuriatingly chirpy.

Hikaru glared at her, wishing some form of divine wrath would smite her and all that inhabited this decrepit excuse for a healthcare facility. "No." He replied begrudgingly.

"Here's a balloon," she added, completely unfazed. "And a sticker."

Hikaru peeled the sticker and stuck it over her mouth, much to Kaoru's amusement.

"You still mad at me?" Kaoru teased, as they walked out of the building.

"Yes."

"Why?" Kaoru snickered. "You wanted to be unconscious for the filling, and that's what happened when you fainted dead away."

"I didn't _faint. _I _swooned, _thanks to you."

Kaoru's answering chuckle was lost in the flash of lightning and crack of thunder that filled the sky.

The sun had finally relinquished its feeble hold on the day, and the sky let loose another snarl of thunder. Rain began to come down in torrents, finely matching Hikaru's mood. This mood would carry over into the next embarrassing vignette, which would also greatly improve Hikaru's mood.

Somewhere not quite so far away, Tamaki was settling down with a bowl of popcorn, to watch a scary movie marathon with Shima and Antoinette.


	4. The Crippled King

Part One of a two-part miniseries! You can either read this alone or as the beginning of a continuation. Either way, enjoy another round of making fun of Tamaki. (Dearest Tamaki, you know I make fun of you because I love you. Hah.)

-----------------------

"Milord, you're not dying."

"I'm crippled."

"Milord, you're not crippled."

Tamaki scowled darkly, and shifted on the maroon velvet couch so he angled his body away from Hikaru and Kaoru, who were watching him with wry amusement. He pouted furiously, torn between depression and rage.

Kyoya shook his head, eyes flashing with a shadowy sense of humor.

Hunny was busily doodling on Tamaki's heavy plaster cast, while Mori watched from a few paces away, leaning against the plush oak chair where Kyoya was seated.

"Master Suoh is thoroughly grateful to all of you for coming to him in his time of disability, but I do believe you're making everything worse," Shima observed bluntly from the hall, where she was supervising both the boys and the staff, who were making brunch.

"It'll get better as soon as Haruhi gets here!" Hunny insisted, putting the finishing touches on a pink daisy.

"Where _is_ Haruhi anyway?" Hikaru asked, glancing at his watch. "She's late."

"Not like that's a surprise. And we did leave out Milord's grievous injury," Kaoru replied.

Moments later, Haruhi burst though the mahogany double doors with a bang, nearly giving the elderly doorman a heart attack.

"Senpai, your gate wouldn't let me in!" she panted, much to the amusement of the others, especially Kyoya. "Now what 'official host club business' are we doing he--Tamaki, why is your leg in a cast?"

Tamaki grumbled something incoherent, and glared at the fleur-de-lys wallpaper. The phrase "if looks could kill," instantly came to mind.

Haruhi raised her eyebrows at the others. Usually, the problem was getting Tamaki to shut up, not speak up.

"Funny," Hikaru observed solemnly.

"We thought for sure he'd talk to you," Kaoru finished.

"Why is it that I'm always the one who's left in the dust?" Haruhi sighed. "What exactly is wrong with Tamaki-senpai?"

Kyoya made a note of something in his ledger. "Maybe we should fill Haruhi in. Who would like to explain?" Kyoya asked.

"Ooh! Can I?" Hunny bounced up from where he'd been sitting on the floor, dropping his pink Sharpie, which Mori picked up and slipped in his pants pocket.

Tamaki rolled his eyes.

"It was a dark and stormy night," Hunny began ominously. "And Tamaki had just finished watching a horror movie marathon . . ."

"No! No! Don't go in there! The werewolf's gonna get you!! STOP!!" Tamaki wailed, clutching his bowl of popcorn. "GET AWAY FROM HER, FIEND!!" He lobbed several bonbons at the TV screen.

Gritting his teeth against the girl's apparent stupidity for not listening to his advice, he hurriedly crammed a heaping handful of popcorn into his mouth. His eyes grew wider and wider as the ominous shadow lurking on the screen closed in on the unsuspecting heroine. The brown-eyed girl with the dark wavy hair paid no notice to the darkness behind her (or to Tamaki's futile screaming) and continued to peer into the decrepit mansion.

An unearthly cackle rose from the stereo system, and Tamaki shivered in grim anticipation. He crammed another handful of kernels into his mouth. Suddenly, the music changed, and Tamaki's heart began racing in time to the rapid percussion.

Then, the monster reared up . . .

"NOOO, HARUHIIIIIII!!!!!!" Tamaki shrieked. "AIIIEEERRGGH!!!!" He tossed his bowl of popcorn up into the air, overturned a glass of soda, upended several bowls of candy, and dove face first into the couch cushions. As the music slowed, he peeked out. Then he realized what he'd just shouted. He chuckled to himself, feeling like a total dunderhead.

"These Japanese horror films really do suck you in. This is so much better than anything we ever had in France!" he laughed off his embarrassment, hurriedly checking to see if the twins had somehow caught it on tape (he wasn't taking any chances, not after that one incident last Christmas . . .).

Satisfied, Tamaki settled back into his nest of pillows and blankets, and watched the rest of the movie in a sort of excited-petrified-and-totally-unable-to-tear-your-eyes-away-kind of stupor. At last, at about three in the morning, the last movie began to roll credits.

Tamaki stretched happily, rousing himself from the debris of scattered popcorn and candy wrappers that lay littered around his couch.

That was fun_, he thought to himself cheerily. _I'm glad they managed to cure that vampire. I love happy endings!

He brushed loose crumbs off his pajamas and picked his way across the floor. He stared woefully at the salmagundi of scattered candy, spilled drinks, and various other wreckage. For a moment, he wavered between cleaning it up or going straight to bed. Then, sleepiness won out over chivalry, and he decided to leave it to the maids.

Yawning hugely, he trudged up to his room. Already half-asleep, he sank into bed and pulled the covers firmly up to his neck. Too late, he realized he'd forgotten to brush his teeth. Oh well, he decided. He'd just brush doubly long in the morning.

He closed his eyes and lay still. Several minutes later, his eyes flashed open. Man, that popcorn had dried out his throat. He could almost feel it shriveling up. Well, better go get a drink.

He swung his legs over the bed, and stumbled down the stairs.

Hmmm . . . had they always creaked like that? Was it always this cold in the mansion?

Outside, the wind howled, lightning crackled and thunder boomed. Looming shadows darkened the halls, and a tree branch tapped unceasingly on the window. Tamaki's heart was pounding, but at a relatively normal rate still.

The grandfather clock began to toll. Once, twice, three times.

Three o'clock, Tamaki realized suddenly. The witching hour . . .

"Why didn't he just turn on the light?" Haruhi interrupted, queen of common sense.

Tamaki huffed in irritation.

"I'm getting to that." Hunny replied. "So yeah, Tamaki was making his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water . . ."

Tamaki felt around blindly for the light switch, and flipped it on hurriedly. He sighed in relief when brightness flooded the room, then went to the cabinet for his glass.

Out of nowhere, the light surged into blinding intensity, and a roar of thunder shook the mansion, rattling the windows. The lights flickered, once, twice. Then went out.

Dropping (and shattering) his glass, Tamaki squeaked like a strangled cat and twitched violently. His heart palpitated, and began beating double time. Suddenly, his thirst was quenched and replaced with a violent urge to empty his bladder.

What's going on?? He thought frantically. This isn't supposed to happen! What the devil happened to the backup generator??! I need light! Light! Light! Lightlightlightlightlightlight . . .

He crept back up the stairs, trying not to breathe too loudly. Ookay, as soon as I get into my room and under the covers, I'm home free. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. I can do this!!

Crouching close to the banister, Tamaki thought he was doing a pretty darn good job of sneaking. But then, he had the strangest sensation that he was being followed.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, he chanced a look behind him. What he saw scared him so witless that he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

EYES!! TWO GLOWING, FLOATING, GREEN EYES!! AND SLOBBERING FANGS!! GREAT, BIG, SLOBBERING FANGS!!!!!

"YiiiiIIIIIiiiiIiiiIiiIiIIiIIiIiIiIIiiIIiIiIIiIIIIiiiiii!!!" Tamaki screeched like a banshee and bolted.

The eyes followed him, bounding closer and closer . . .

Gasping for breath, Tamaki was almost there, only a few more steps to clear . . . when he tripped over a rug, went sprawling, and tumbled back down the stairs.

The whole world spun round and round and round . . . So this was the monster's power, Tamaki thought crazily. I'm in a ghostly blender! Or worse, some macabre washing machine! Lord, what a stupid way to die . . .

Ohh! I wish I'd had the time to tell Haruhi that I . . .

Then he bounced and landed at the bottom of the stairs, and his leg erupted into stabbing pain.

Worse yet, Green Eyes leered at him, opened its mouth, bared its hideous fangs, exhaled a puff of warm breath . . . and began to lick Tamaki's face.

"You're kidding." Haruhi stared at Hunny disbelievingly. "It was Antoinette?"

"Yup," Hunny replied brightly.

Judging by how Kaoru and Hikaru were doubled up upon each other laughing breathlessly, how Kyoya was shaking his head and grinning, and how even Mori couldn't resist a smile, Hunny was telling the truth.

Tamaki glared daggers at them all. And Antoinette? She was holed up in the basement, an apologetic doggy grin on her face.


	5. All for a Dime

Well, this little doodle was inspired by a friend who borrowed a quarter from me (well, a dime, actually) to make a copy in the school library. I took it for granted that he knew that I didn't expect him to pay me back, so I just stared at him like an idiot when he handed me a dime the next day. Said friend will not be mentioned, coz he probably won't read this. XD

* * *

"Oh, no. OH no. OHNO. OooOOHh NOOooOOo!!"

Sweat glistened on Tamaki's brow as he rifled frantically through his pockets. Growing more frenzied by the second, he reached deep into his pockets and turned them inside out. Nothing but a rubber band, a picture of Haruhi, and some lint.

"No0o0o0o!!" he cried, sinking to his knees amid the bits of pocket lint and disappearing into a swirling black hole of endless doom.

The pointy-faced, strangely angular librarian glared daggers at him over her half-moon spectacles, stamping due dates on books with unusual vehemence. _Whack. Whack. Whack._

Yes, our lordship was in the school library. He had meant to make a quick copy of the worksheet he'd borrowed from Kyoya (Tamaki's had mysteriously been found floating in the angel fountain by the clock tower, he'd made a mental note to talk to the twins about _that_) and zip back out to attend to Host Club duties.

However, copies costed ten cents a sheet, and Tamaki didn't have any change. (or bills under twenty dollars, but that's beside the point) He'd tried asking the librarian to make change for him, but she merely glared at him icily and asked him if she _looked _like a bank teller.

In the depths of despair, Tamaki was about to resort to searching between the chair cushions for lost change, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

He turned around, and his violet eyes met Haruhi's coffee-brown ones. It was as if an angel had descended from above, sent by the forces of heaven to relieve him of his plight. A tiny speaker in Tamaki's mind flicked on, and the Hallelujah chorus wafted through the library's rafters, threading its way through the numerous cobwebby things lining the antiqued bookshelves.

"Did you lose something, senpai?" Haruhi asked, slightly apprehensive of the deranged look on Tamaki's face. She was torn between wanting to comfort him and obeying the more natural reflex of turning tail and fleeing.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki sobbed. "I need to make a copy, but the librarian's a demon in disguise and-"

"Wait, what?" Haruhi interrupted, bewildered. She chanced a glance at the librarian, and their eyes met. For a moment, Haruhi was frozen, incapable of tearing her eyes away from the bloodshot ones of the librarian. "WHAT?!" she yelped, her heartbeat quickening.

Then, the world came back into focus, and the librarian turned to look back at her books, nothing but an elderly lady with her graying hair neatly coiffed, dressed in a drab beige.

Haruhi heaved a sigh. Apparently, Tamaki-idiocitis was contagious.

"Senpai, the librarian isn't a demon."

Tamaki chose not to respond to that. "And I don't have any change to feed this vile beast!" He gestured madly at the inert hunk of metal and plastic sitting in front of him.

"Er, don't you think you should have told me that first? And how is it that you can order giant fatty tuna for lunch, and yet not afford to use a ten-cent copy machine??" she asked incredulously.

"It's not that I can't afford it," Tamaki replied, startled that she would think that. "I just don't have change."

"Not even one quarter? Why not?"

"It isn't proper for royalty to jingle," Tamaki said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It simply isn't done."

Once again, the ways of the rich were too much for Haruhi. She groaned inwardly, and pulled out her coin purse. She shook the contents out into her palm, then picked out a quarter and held it out for Tamaki.

He stared at it in wonder. His mouth dropped open slightly, his indigo eyes round. He was absolutely astounded.

"What?" Haruhi asked uneasily. Maybe he'd never seen such small denomination coins before? Good God, he looked like he was going to break out in song and dance, like in some sort of grotesque Broadway number. She prayed that she hadn't been sucked into some alternate universe of high school musicals.

"I can't take your money," Tamaki whispered, almost reverently.

"Why not?" Haruhi was starting to wish she hadn't come to the library at all . . .

"Because . . ." Tamaki trailed off, unsure of how to approach this delicate subject. "Well, YOUNEEDITMORETHANIDO!!" He yelled in one big rush.

The librarian flashed him a vicious glare so full of loathing it nearly set the wallpaper ablaze.

_WHACKshrrrp._

Startled, the librarian looked down at the book in her hands. She'd stamped a hole clear through the first ten pages.

Meanwhile, Tamaki's eyes teared up, and he grabbed Haruhi, snuggling her in a viselike grip. "Oh, my sweet, giving daughter! Thinking nothing of herself! So noble!" He sniffled.

He stroked her hair for a few moments, while Haruhi gathered her ever-fleeing sanity.

"Senpai," she began, struggling to keep her voice even, "it's only ten cents."

At this, Tamaki released her. Blinking back tears, he gently took the coin from her. Cradling it in the palm of his hand like a precious diamond, he carefully put it over the coin slot and dropped it in.

In complete silence, still with eyes like an adoring puppy's, he pushed the glowing buttons on the machine, and waited till it spat out his copy. Taking the copy out of the tray, he folded it neatly and stuck it inside his jacket.

He and Haruhi exited the library together in silence, and made their way to the third music room. Tamaki got the door and held it open for her.

Settling into the inconsequential chatter of her patrons, Haruhi thought that was that. But then, she glimpsed Tamaki out of the corner of her eye. He was in full on prince mode, and she wondered vaguely which girl he was charming witless. But . . .

_Eh? Why is he getting closer and closer . . . to me? And what is that look on his face? Ew. That doesn't look healthy . . ._

"Haruhi," Tamaki said in a breathy voice, taking her hand. He knelt down on the floor in front of her.

Flowers blossomed out of nowhere, and the girls whispered breathlessly among themselves, absolutely shaking with excitement. Several fainted.

Heedless of all that, Tamaki continued in a voice quivering with emotion. "Your chivalrous donation saved me from crawling on the ground scrounging for coins. I vow to pay you back no matter what the consequences!"

_Shiing. _Crystalline rainbow bubbles floated up from the floor, and a blindingly bright light of valiance emanated from Tamaki. Somewhere in the background, Kyoya was taking souvenir pictures.

And Haruhi's exasperated reply was lost amid the squealing of fan girls.


End file.
